Quercus agrifolia shades my bench
Roots drink the fog they never clench
Salvia mellifera feeds the bee
I whisper names to the chaparral sea
Salt on the steel loam on the sleeve
We watch what the tide and the traffic leave
One counts the cars one counts the rings
Both know the quiet that waiting brings
Fog lifts slow at the morning bell
Roots hold the cliff the detective as well
Trench coat collar turned against the spray
Case file closed at the end of day
Highway One curves below my boots
Salt rusts the guardrail salt rusts the roots
Salt on the steel loam on the sleeve
We watch what the tide and the traffic leave
One counts the cars one counts the rings
Both know the quiet that waiting brings
Fog lifts slow at the morning bell
Roots hold the cliff the detective as well
Arctostaphylos clings to the edge
Manzanita bark a ruddy pledge
Xylem rises in silent columns
While headlights paint the subterranean
Badge catches light like a dewdrop lens
Hand lens catches light on leaf defense
One guards the living one guards the dead
Both hold the words the unsaid
Radio silent since the midnight call
Fog eats the distance eats it all
Perp jumped the rail at mile twenty-three
Now the sea wind sings his elegy
Salt on the steel loam on the sleeve
We watch what the tide and the traffic leave
One counts the cars one counts the rings
Both know the quiet that waiting brings
Fog lifts slow at the morning bell
Roots hold the cliff the detective as well
Eriogonum buckwheat blooms in the crack
Tire tracks fade on the shoulder's back
Pollinator dusk begins its round
Shift change comes with the morning sound
Salt on the steel loam on the sleeve
We watch what the tide and the traffic leave
One counts the cars one counts the rings
Both know the quiet that waiting brings
Fog lifts slow at the morning bell
Roots hold the cliff the detective as well
Salt and soil we keep the watch
Roots and badge the same quiet notch